


For All the Nights to Come

by sagiow



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Finale, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagiow/pseuds/sagiow
Summary: He had made it in time, but what would happen next?





	1. Chapter 1

« And I promise you, Mary Phinney, you shall live to see it. »

He had taken her hand, kissed it and pressed it to his forehead as she had slowly fallen into a hazy sleep, her breath coming in ragged gasps that tore at his heart. But her breath did come in, and this he watched intently as time stood still, fearing each one would be her last. Yet others came after, and more and more again, until his eyes grew heavy and he could no longer fight the rest that he had denied himself for over a day.

He thought of seeking her aunt to reassure her of his courteous, purely medical intentions, but decided against it: after all, had it not been Mary herself who had asked for privacy for them? And had not Agnes seemed relieved when he introduced himself, even glad to take him to her room? And what was that about a letter? She couldn’t have meant the one Matron Brannan had read to the Mansion House staff: he wasn’t even mentioned in it. He should have been disappointed, but considering all the letters he himself had failed to send her, he felt he had deserved to be ignored.

But letters unsent meant nothing anymore, as she had assured him, and so did whatever her aunt might think of his night watch. He pulled the armchair closer to the bed, careful not to make a sound, and dimmed the light to barely an amber hue. Thinking of the long night ahead, he then removed his coat, untied the buttons of his vest and, as he loosened his necktie, suddenly grew conscious of the level of intimacy such a gesture would normally imply. How many women had watched him undress as such? And how many women had he seen as he now saw Mary, lying in bed in her nightgown with her hair undone? The answer was not many, and the context flustered him. “But you’ve seen plenty of female patients in such a state”, he told himself. “That is what she is right now: a patient, sick from typhoid fever, and you have treated many patients with typhoid in the past”.

“Yes, but none that you loved”, came back the reply. And to this he could not answer, as he feared what it implied, and what it might require from him, and what he would be left to face, should he fail.

But for now, still she slept, and breathed, and lived. So there he sat, and stayed, softly clasping Mary’s hand in his, a fingertip pressing gently in the crook of her wrist to feel the reassuring pulse of her heartbeat as she rested, and as he, himself, dozed off.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary awoke, as she did so often in a night she no longer kept count. She had lost count of the reasons as well: the fever hikes that would make her kick away all covers in search of coolness and clarity; the fits of coughing that would leave her lungs and ribs sore as she gasped for air; the terrible thirst that came from lying for hours with barely a few sips of water or broth to sustain her; the horrible cramps that gripped her bowels in a vise and make her curl up in agony. This time, it was yet another: the deep chills and spasms that flooded her body as the fever ebbed. Painfully, she shifted slightly to her side, trying to alleviate the pressure on her hips, pulling the quilt up. She mentally scanned her body, willing each part to stop trembling, trying to find which was warmest to focus on its heat and spread it to the rest. Oddly, the only one that was not frozen was her right hand. In the fogginess of sleep and sickness, it took her some time to realize that this was because it was being held in someone else’s. « Aunt Agnes never holds my hand, » she thought, as images of those who had danced in her mind. Mama. Father. Gustav. Jed.

Jed.

Her eyes popped open and stared in the dark. Could it be? Wasn’t it just a dream, another vision? Her dreams never felt so warm, never lingered so in her body once they were over. She squeezed her fingers slightly: they met skin, flesh, real and tangible. Soon, an arm emerged from the darkness, and then a body, and finally, a face. His face. Her breath caught in her throat in a gasp at the sight, and came out in a sigh when blinking did not remove it.

He slept with a slight frown, his head at an uncomfortable angle in the chair. One leg was crossed above the other, the calf and foot resting on the very edge of the bed, near her own below the coverlet. She could not help herself from inching closer to it, seeking his warmth against the chills that racked her body. Now that she knew he was there, really there, she could not believe she had not felt his presence before, for he radiated such vitality, even asleep. The heat of his hand over her own, the pressure of his leg close to hers, would have given rise to images that would have made her blush, had she not been so very cold, so very exhausted, so very lonely from her forced exile. To be held once more…   As a moth to a light, she wanted to cling to Life, to be consumed by it, and should she truly have to die, it should not be alone and in pain in an icy bed with the man she loved within arm’s reach. To hell with propriety.

Propriety had made McBurney send her away to be confined in a stale room, had prevented her from speaking her heart’s mind until a few days ago, when she had finally poured it out in a letter, which propriety once again forbade her from mailing until… the end. Propriety had cost her so much already. It owed her what little happiness and comfort was still within her grasp, for what little time remained.    

Still, she hesitated to wake him. To rouse him from sleep he so obviously needed seemed selfish, but most importantly, what would he think of her? Her desire to be done with pointless respectability might not be his… Not matter how she’d phrase it, such a request would be shocking to any gentleman’s ears. Would he shame her for it? Would he simply get up and leave, either from disgust, or worse, as some attempt to maintain her honour after she had tossed it aside carelessly?

“Not Jed,” she told herself. He could be spiteful, had even been downright cruel in a few morphine-withdrawn instances, but she could not believe he would be so at this moment. Not after travelling all this distance to see to her care. Not after promising to never leave her side until she was well again.

As she debated on, he stirred. Startled, she clasped his hand, and his eyes shot open. The daze of sleep lasted for merely a second and was gone, and his gaze immediately fell on hers.

“Mary,” he said, his brows knitting in alarm. “You’re awake. I’m so sorry I fell asleep. How are you?”

Jed tried to pull his left hand free to feel her fever, but she clung to it. Surprised, he froze for an instant, but did not insist: his concerned stare never leaving her face, he uncrossed his legs, straightened up and leaned across with his other arm to touch her forehead, fingers grazing her temple and hair, palm sliding down to rest on her cheek as it had so often done since her illness. Her temperature was above average, but not dangerously so. His, however, was starting to climb from being so close to her, in such an intimate position, her eyes boring deep into his as if trying to read his soul.

They had lain almost as such when he had pulled her from the ice bath back at Mansion House when the typhoid had first struck, but she had then been panicked, almost delirious, and they had been surrounded by their colleagues. Now, they were completely alone, her dark eyes deliberate, her body calm if not for the shivers he suddenly detected.

“You’re trembling,” he said before thinking, a medical statement of facts, before other potential reasons for it came to his mind and made him stop.

“’I’m c..cold,” she stuttered, her voice hoarse. “It… hurts.”

He nodded. “I’ll get you another blanket and some laudanum,” he replied, attempting to pull away, but Mary’s free hand shot up and grabbed his own as he had just removed it from her face. She held it there, against her neck and jawline, his other hand still clasped in hers by her hip, her eyes begging him to comprehend her silent request as she shook her head imperceptivity.

He stared back, helpless, clueless, when all of a sudden, he understood, and wanted nothing more.

He just did not trust himself to be up to it without dissolving into a complete mass of pain and longing and dread, of finally knowing the long-denied happiness of touching her only to have her slip away and die. The fear of it petrified him.

Mary saw the conflict in his face, his mouth open to make excuses, his body tense to pull away, and in despair, she blurted out. “Jed, please… hold me?”

To hear her say it was a lightning bolt: to hear her say it as a question was simply unbearable. _Just hold her, you damn fool. Nothing else matters for now. Haven’t you wasted enough time hiding behind convention and decorum and your selfish fears?_ _To hell with all of that. Hold her while you can._

“Of course, my darling” he finally sighed, and the relief and pure joy that radiated from Mary’s features immediately quashed any doubt that he might have overstepped with the endearment. She let go of his hands and moved to make room for him. Jed paused for one last moment to try and quell the rush of emotion that threatened his resolve, as her ethereally pale face beamed at him across the bed, before smoothing out the covers and sliding carefully to sit over them. Unsure if this would do, he then turned to her and stretched out his arm in invitation. With a haste that surprised him, she immediately came to him, her cheek on his chest, her arm around his waist, her body espousing his. It came so naturally from her, and she fit so perfectly against him, that the final traces of hesitation or awkwardness Jed felt were washed away by a surge of tenderness. He covered her with the quilt and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back gently, her shoulder, her upper arm.

Despite the chills, he felt her sigh, relax, and bury deeper in his embrace. “Thank you,” she said, and he tightened his hold on her, willing his heart to slow down as she could probably hear it racing.

“Are you warmer? Comfortable?” he asked in barely a whisper. “I can move-“

“Don’t you dare,” came the stern reply, the Head Nurse momentarily re-emerging. To this, he grinned, and without thinking, stroked her hair and kissed her hairline. He felt her smile even though she did not raise her face to him, and was grateful for it, for had he seen her smiling lips mere inches from his own, he would not have been able to prevent himself from kissing them, too. And that, propriety or not, would have to wait for her health to return.

Until then, he could hold her, and tell her what should have been told on the dock, in her sick room, in the hallway after their only kiss, and every other moment he had been with her.

“Mary,” he said. He had only pronounced her name in his mind for so long, he could not stop saying it out loud. “Mary, I need to tell you-“

“Not now,” she interrupted him. “We’ll speak of everything soon”. To hear his own words cut short his confession as he had cut off her apology during their last talk at Mansion House hurt, and he regretted it, but then she added: “This is... all I wanted.”

Mollified, he nodded. “As did I.” He allowed his cheek to rest lightly on the top of her head, and leaned back against the pillow, cradling her to him. “As do I, my love. That and for you to get better soon, so I may hold you like this every night, for all the nights to come.”

Mary relished his heat, his scent, the pressure of his arms around her. She closed her eyes to better focus on the weight of his head against hers, his slowing breath and heartbeat in his chest against her ear, the steady movement of his hands on her back, smoothing the soreness away. Despite the pain, she felt completely content. _My darling_ , Jed’s voice echoed in her mind. _My love… for all the nights to come._ She fought sleep, wanting to cherish this long-desired embrace for as long as she could; but sleep slowly overcame her, and she peacefully slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here’s my continuation of the Season 2 finale (I still stubbornly refuse to call it "series finale"). My headcanon of it was actually quite close to middlemarch’s wonderful Of Paradise' Existence, so after reading it, I shifted mine in another, less time-period plausible direction. It’s also more contemplative/introspective that I was aiming for, but I found the story to come together that way, for better or for worse. 
> 
> My first fan fic in over a decade! It took me so long to get it out as I’d only get to writing at night, after 12++ hours of sciencing and mothering, with ~15% brainpower remaining (and decreasing steadily with every sentence written). I’d re-read what I wrote, and re-write what I read… and really not advance much before passing out on my keyboard. 
> 
> If you think it’s worth it, I do have further (less contemplative) chapters in the pipeline; writing them should be easier now that the ice is broken, but any feedback would be really encouraging.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

A beam of sunlight glided past the half-closed curtains and fell on Mary’s face, and she welcomed it with a smile. _Another morning on this Earth,_ she thought thankfully. And apparently, a glorious one as well. The New England sun was rising later every day now that Fall had officially come in, and sometimes made itself quite scarce, but today promised to be an exception, she could just feel it. She stretched slightly, her body stiff from sleep and being bedridden for so long, but for the first time, there was no pain, no general malaise to be found. She felt… well. Not her former self, to be sure, but well, and she leaned back with a peaceful sigh, reaching for the arm resting across her stomach, turning to watch Jed sleep.

The sun had not reached him yet, and still he slept in the relative obscurity. He lied on his side, an arm curled under his head, his other wrapped loosely around Mary’s waist. As always, he had refused to slip under the blankets, insisting on what slight barrier could be preserved between them, and Mary had humored him that little modesty.

For the last week, Jed had been the perfect physician and nurse to her, only leaving her side momentarily when she rested and Aunt Agnes would take over, or when the elder woman or Aurelia would help her wash and change. Finding the former laundress at the house on the day after his arrival had been a happy surprise to Jed: she had learned of Mary’s illness from a letter sent by Samuel a few weeks past, and had immediately requested some time from Miss McAndrews to help; she, being an old friend of Mary’s, had gladly accepted, and Aurelia had come by as often as she could to lend a hand to the care of her former benefactress and to keep her company. However, now that Jed was there, there was much less company for her to keep.

Aside from his examinations, which were dutifully chaperoned, Jed and Mary were mostly left alone: during the day, the door was kept open to avoid scandal, but they had very few visitors, and no one in the household would have wished them such harm. Upon walking in on them together on their first morning and dissolving into a dozen embarrassed excuses, Agnes had merely smiled and shaken her head. “Don’t you worry yourselves about any of that, my dears. If anyone asks, I’ve been in this room the whole time and you, Doctor, have been in the guest room all the way across the house. Now do keep doing whatever our Mary requires to get better, and let _me_ take care of what Boston might think of it.” The blush that had then crept on both their faces had only made her chuckle, put down the coffee pot, and leave merrily.

Under his dedicated care, Mary’s health improved slowly, but steadily. Eliminating the calomel and insisting on fresh air and food had done much to stabilize her body; but it was his attention and affection that had made her thrive, after weeks of lonesome boredom. She had never been one to sit idly by, so the never-ending solitary bedrest had proven more of an ordeal than any symptom of typhoid. With Jed’s presence, this all changed: when her energy permitted it, he encouraged her to get out of bed and move around, if only to sit by the window, or to walk the hall a few times slowly, holding on to his arm. Otherwise, he read to her, kept her informed of the latest war developments, and discussed any arbitrary subject to keep her interest, challenging her to debate him, testing her humor and mood with the odd joke, teasing her senses with the occasional chaste touch. But most precious of all, when night had fallen, the servants had retired and Agnes had bid them goodnight, that rare shy smile of his would cross his face; he would close the door, dress down to his shirt and trousers, and finally come to her.

In such moments, and as her strength improved and allowed her to remain awake for longer than a few blessed minutes, they had gradually allowed themselves to speak more intimately and grow to know one another. To be enfolded within his embrace as he softly inquired about her childhood, her family, her likes and dislikes, and told her the same in return, was the most overwhelmingly wonderful feeling. To be held, and cared for, and _loved_ … she felt as is her chest would burst and for once, not from the cough. The word had not been pronounced since their first night, mostly because his circumstances did not allow them to do so, but it was understood, and accepted, and enough for the time being.

Despite their new closeness, there had never been more than the lightest of kisses to her hand or forehead. He held her firmly but softly, as one might cradle a young child, and always wrapped her in the quilt before, so as to avoid becoming too aware of her body and how thin it had become. Mary herself remained too frail and ill to desire anything more than his warmth and affection, but this morning, as she looked at him sleeping and held his bare forearm, she felt just the tiniest twinge in the pit of her stomach.

She hesitated, then turned carefully to her side to face him, her head coming to rest on the far side of his pillow. As she moved, he tightened his hold around her and she held her breath, afraid she had woken him: but no, still he slept. She watched him fondly for a few minutes and, no longer able to resist, reached out to touch his cheek. Her fingertips softly grazed his beard, his jawline, her thumb gliding to trace his lower lip. So intent was she in observing what her fingers explored, she saw his mouth curl up in a smile before she felt his eyes on her, and before she could pull her hand away, he had pressed his lips to her thumb and kissed it.

The twinge exploded into a million butterflies.

“What a wonderful way to be awoken,” he greeted her groggily, grinning at the flush creeping up her cheeks, her hand retreating to the safety of her chest, which his drowsy gaze followed, and made her blush even deeper. He chuckled: “I must say, Miss Phinney, I find your coloring much improved this morning. A sign of returning health?”

Mary recoiled slightly, but his arm held her in place, his fingers splaying out over her lower back. “Returning sunshine, rather,” she retorted, trying to keep her bearings and change the topic. “It looks like we’ll have a beautiful day.”

Jed glanced up at the window, then settled back on the pillow, eyes shutting again. “Hmmm… that we will. I’m glad to see nice weather can be had in this northern country of yours. I was beginning to doubt it.”

Relieved he took the bait, she pressed on. “I was thinking… perhaps I could go outside? Just for a short time, this afternoon when it’s warmest. I’ve been stuck indoors for so long now, and would really hate to miss the one last sunny day before winter comes.”

“Winter?” he groaned. “In October?!? I take back what I just said about nice weather in Massachusetts, this is atrocious.” Then silent, he appeared to be drifting away again, when his hand started lazily rubbing her back, sending shivers down her spine. “I propose we stay in, where it’s nice and warm.”

So he hadn’t taken the bait after all. _This is becoming dangerous_ , her brain cautioned, but the rapid beating of her heart soon overpowered it.

“Jed…” she tried to warn him sternly, but it came out in a hoarse whisper, and he paid it no mind, his hand covering more and more of her with each movement. When his fingertips reached the collar of her nightgown and grazed the skin at the nape of her neck, she gasped. She thrust her palm against his chest, half to brace herself should he attempt to draw her closer, and half to tug him herself should he fail to.

The pressure made Jed quizzically open his eyes again, and the sight the beheld him awoke him fully. To see her so close, so alive: her head resting on his pillow, her chestnut curls cascading around her pale yet slightly flushed cheeks, her lips parted with the shallow breath that moved her chest and, most of all, her dark eyes looking at him with a mixture of fear, anticipation and… could it be? Desire? He could only stare back in grateful amazement, his fingers moving forward to caress the side of her neck. “God you’re beautiful,” he sighed.

Mary’s fist closed around his shirt and she pulled him to her.

She felt his breath on her nose, the scrape of his beard on her chin, and just when his lips came to meet hers,

A loud knock on the door made them jump and pull away.

They stared at each other in a daze for a second. “Miss Mary?” came a cheerful voice from the hallway. Jed was the first to regain his spirits: he quickly rose and jumped out of bed, smoothing his clothes hurriedly, and went to open the door. Aurelia came in, bearing a breakfast platter and teapot.

“Good morning,” she greeted them cheerfully, then flinched as she took in his disheveled appearance, Mary still lying in bed. “Oh Lord, I’m so sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no,” he assured her. “I was up, must’ve dozed off in the chair… Please excuse my ragged state.”

Aurelia smiled, somewhat knowingly, and placed the tray on the desk. “No need for that, Doctor, but you’ll soon be the sick one if you don’t get yourself a decent night’s rest soon. Though it seems to be doing the job: Miss Mary, you’re looking much better this morning!”

Mary propped herself up in the bed, smiling timidly. “Thank you, I do feel well. How is Gabriel?”

Aurelia’s grin widened. “Just wonderful. Healthy and hard-working and bright and kind, Miss McAndrews is quite taken with him! She’s found him a school nearby: he’s learning to read and write and count, and history, geography… all things that he might’ve never learnt back in the South. He never gets enough and talks my ears off when he gets home and helps me with my work, and it’s my time to learn then,” she told them proudly.

“He sounds like a fine young man,” Mary acquiesced. “I hope you will allow me to meet him, when the risk of contagion is passed,” she added.

“Of course, and gladly, Miss Mary. All in due time… we ain’t leaving Boston anytime soon. But I do have to get back to the kitchen now, so I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Oh, and the mail’s come in, too,” she finished, handing Jed a small packet of letters. “Some look to be from Mansion House,” she added, before exiting the room.

Left alone once again, an awkward silence fell between them, their close encounter returning to their minds. Searching for an olive branch, Jed perused the letters. The first was addressed to Mary in a flowery cursive. “This must be from your pet, Miss Green,” he smirked, trying to dissipate the tension between them. “Shall I read it to you?”

Mary perked up at the diversion and the mention of the young nurse’s name. “Oh, no, that’s fine, I’d like to read it myself. And some tea, too, if you please.”

With a relieved glance, Jed passed her the letter and she eagerly tore it open, and began to read it out loud.

_“Dear Nurse Mary,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, and Dr. Foster too. Samuel told us he had left him on a Boston-bound train, and we all rejoiced at the news of your upcoming reunion. Speaking of rejoicing, I am absolutely thrilled to tell you that Major McBurney has left Mansion House!” -_ Oh Jed, isn’t that wonderful!” she cried out, despite herself.

“He _what_?!?” Jed exclaimed, pouring tea all over the desk, and cursing at his doing so. “But… how, why, when?”

“Hush, I’m getting to it,” replied Mary, visibly amused by his reaction, and pleased by the news. As much as she strove to be a charitable person, and recognized the man to be significantly troubled, McBurney had treated her dreadfully, and she had never been able to fully forgive him for sending her away in such a cowardly manner. She knew Jed’s opinion of the man to be twice as worse. So no, she was not sorry that Mansion House was rid of him.

Smiling her thanks for the tea Jed placed on the nightstand, she continued reading: _“He had come down with a mysterious illness and no longer appeared to be master of his own mind. The things he claimed he saw, and heard, and even *smelled*! It was quite unnerving, poor man. Dr. Hale and Nurse Hastings believe it to be from the strain of running the hospital after the crisis brought on by Antietam.”_

“Ha, and I believe it to be from the strain Dr. Hale and Nurse Hastings experienced, being under his command,” Jed snorted as he opened another letter. “They must’ve done quite a number on him.”

Mary chuckled in agreement and went on: _“We received an overwhelming number of wounded soldiers from that terrible battle, and there wasn’t an inch of the ward that wasn’t occupied. With Major McBurney gone, and no replacement for days, you might think we would have had our own war within our walls: but oddly, no. In the face of such horror, all the staff came together and worked tirelessly to provide what healing and comfort could be had. There was no distinction of doctor or orderly, matron or nurse, black or white: we were just caretakers trying to help these poor boys to the best of our abilities. And when these were not enough, ~~Henry~~ Chaplain Hopkins was there to provide the final relief they sought._

_Of course, both you and Dr. Foster were sorely missed, and still are to this day. I find myself asking “What would Nurse Mary do?” at least twenty times a day, and hope to live up to your teachings. I also hope you will forgive me for taking your room in your absence: I thought it best to move the hospital to better dedicate myself to our work and it was the only one available at the time, but rest assured I will relinquish it as soon as another is freed._

_Please know that we all pray for your quick and full recovery, send our most fervent best wishes, and look forward to your homecoming._

_Your most dedicated friend,_

_Emma Green_

_P.S. I took it upon myself to forward Dr. Foster’s letters to your address, in case they were urgent and could not wait for his return, which we hope is soon, and in your company.”_

_“_ Well, that was quite a bit of news, wasn’t it? McBurney, Antietam, Nurse Hastings not attempting to seize total dominion… _Henry,_ ” she added teasingly, looking up at Jed. But he wasn’t looking at her: immobile, his eyes were fixed on the letter he held, an unreadable expression on his face. She immediately grew worried. “Jed, what is it? Bad news?”

Her anxious tone drew him back to the present. “Huh, no, no, all is well. Nothing to worry about. Just some… developments I need to attend to. Arrangements to make,” he added, but Mary’s expression remained apprehensive. He shrugged helplessly and sighed: “You know my furlough was only a fortnight.”

Apprehension was sunk by a surge of despair, but she reigned it in. “Of course. You need to do… what you need to do,” was all she could manage, her gaze falling to the letter in her lap.

He came to her then and sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in both of his to make her look up. She saw he was possessed by a certain fervour that hadn’t been there earlier. “I won’t be long,” he assured her. “Eat, go outside, rest, enjoy the sun, and I shall see you soon.” Then, realizing that the last time he had said those words, she had been shipped out on a steamboat, he corrected himself. “Well before nightfall, I promise. We’ll watch the last sunset before winter together.”

At this, Mary smiled, if somewhat sadly. Giving her hands a squeeze, he rose, then, in a sudden move further betraying his inner passion, leaned back down to kiss her temple. “And finish this morning’s talk,” he whispered, his beard brushing against her skin.

Her breath caught in her throat, but before she could say anything, he had grabbed his vest and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less introspective than the first, perhaps a bit heavy on the exposition, I hope the overall flow of the story wasn't too affected by it. Considering they're all conveniently in Boston, I couldn't resist incorporating Aurelia briefly and giving the poor woman some positivity in her life, .
> 
> One more chapter to wrap all this up, and move on to the other stories floating around my brain asking to be let out into the world!


	4. Chapter 4

Jed closed the door of his room and leaned back against it, his heart racing. The rush he felt from that single piece of paper was greater than anything he had experienced from his morphine injections or the adrenaline of a particularly risky surgery. He unfolded the document once again to make sure that he had truly read it well.

_DIVORCE DECREE._

It was real, it was final, it was signed by Eliza. All that was missing was his own signature. It had cost him a fortune, and would certainly bring him a respectable amount of public disgrace, but he couldn’t care less. It was over. He would be free to start again, with the right person this time. If she’d have him, that was.

He still couldn’t be sure. Perhaps their new closeness had only stemmed from her close brush with death and prolonged isolation: he had seen plenty of patients become deeply attached to their caretakers in similar situations, their devotion born out of thankfulness for their restored health. The caretakers themselves were not immune to becoming inordinately fond of those they had rescued, as Miss Hastings had herself testified. However, this was not his case: the ordeal had only been the catalyst to make him admit his feelings, and act upon them as far as was mostly decent under their circumstances; but maybe that was truly all there was on Mary’s part. Loneliness, desire for life, gratitude. She would have felt the same for any other doctor.

But just this morning, the way she had looked at him... The way she had touched his face… The way she had pulled him to her... There was no other way to interpret it, was there? And if not that, this last week spent with her, day and night; surely she would not have welcomed this from any other doctor?

 _No. She must feel the same way I do. And I must act now, before this damn furlough is over and I have to report back. Although… with McBurney gone… who am I to report to? Is there_ anyone _to report to? Will they even know if I don’t?_

He’d have to find out, and take care of some other matters. He looked at the clock. Already past eight. The sun would set around six, he’d have to be back before. There was no time to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the 2-days late chapter update: no change in the text, it's just the format that I wasn't happy with. I was in such a rush to finally post the ending that I didn't pay attention to the look of it all. Now it's prettier. :))


	5. Chapter 5

Mary felt the weight of Jed’s lips on her temple for many moments after his departure. “And finish this morning talk,” he had said. Considering how little they had spoken, his meaning was quite clear, and she was absolutely elated. For the first time, she allowed herself to consider that the beautiful endearments he had only used on their first night together, and that had sung in her fever-clouded mind ever since, may not have been a dream after all.

However, her momentary happiness was reined in as she remembered the exchange that had occurred mere seconds before his kiss. The letter he had received, that had been the ignition to the fiery sequence of events that had followed. The letter that most probably called upon him to report back for duty, his furlough already at an end. His having to leave. Her staying alone, her health barely improved.

She cut herself short. _Now’s not the time to feel sorry for yourself, Mary Phinney. You didn’t feel sorry when typhoid first struck: you set your mind to fight through it, and you have. It might yet take some time, but you are clearly on the mend now, thanks to him. So enough about that. And what did you expect from him, exactly? You knew from the beginning that it was a two-week furlough, not an open-ended vacation. And certainly not a honeymoon. Considering you had given hope on him coming at all, you were absolutely blessed. He gave you all of himself, only for you to get better. Be thankful for that as well._

_And no matter what the letter said and required of him, his parting thoughts were of coming back to you. How can that be bad? If what he had read somehow jeopardized what could be between us, or if he truly did not care for you after all, he wouldn’t have acted that way: he would have excused himself, and just left. He most certainly would not have recalled this morning’s “talk” and kissed you._

Thinking it through, Mary realized there really was no cause for concern. _Far from it, actually. This time, our separation will be short-lived; with McBurney gone, there’s nothing preventing me from returning to Mansion House as soon as I’ll have recovered._ _Jed is the Executive Officer, he’ll find a way to justify it. Oh, to work! To work with Samuel, and Charlotte, and dear Emma and her Chaplain “Henry”,_ she added with a smirk, _and why not,_ _Hale and Hastings as well! To work with them all, to help those who escaped slavery and battle, and to send them on the road to recovery. To actually have a purpose once more. To do this all with Jed by my side._

The prospect of returning to Alexandria before long was so uplifting, all traces of her earlier despair vanished at once. She set her heart and mind to this sole purpose, and to make the few days remaining to be shared with Jed bright and happy enough to sustain them through their separation.

Her hopeful thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the ajar door, and Agnes came in.

“Good morning, my dear. My, what a smile! You’re looking well today! I crossed Doctor Foster in the hallway, he mentioned he was headed out for some errands. Do you need me with anything?”

Mary pushed the blankets away and swung her feet off the bed.

“Please help me dress. I’m going outside.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jed stood at the gate and peered into the backyard. It was a small, private garden, with a vegetable patch in the back and flower bushes lining the fence on all other sides. At this time of year, little flowers remained but a few sunflowers and chrysanthemums, all of which echoed the warm colours of the fall foliage from the neighboring house’s maple tree. He immediately loved the place, this little green oasis surrounded by brownstones.

Mary reclined on a bench placed in the one little area that the late afternoon light had managed to sneak in and illuminate. Jed was pleasantly surprised to find her dressed, a shawl draped over her raised knees for warmth, a book in her lap, a large pillow behind her back. Despite the chill, she wore no hat over her simply upturned hair and he admired how the teal of her dress and the setting sun brought out the auburn in it. The hint of a smile on her lips, she faced west, the last rays smoothing away her drawn features and the dark circles under her closed eyes, making her appear fully at peace.

As gently as he could, Jed pushed open the gate, but despite his efforts, the hinges squeaked. The metallic noise made her look up, and the way her pale face immediately beamed at seeing him made him stop in his tracks to fully take in her beauty and imprint it in his mind.

“You made it,” she greeted him, not in reproach for his tardiness, but in genuine delight for his arrival.

“So did you,” he replied, resuming his approach. “I’m glad of it, the outdoors suit you. Have you been outside long? Not taxing yourself, I hope?”

She sat up slightly, keeping one leg tucked underneath the other, one arm resting atop the bench’s back, and he found her comfort in his presence, the way she made room for him while remaining at ease, absolutely endearing.

“This is my second tour. An hour this morning,” At this, Jed frowned, and she reassured him, “Then luncheon and **plenty** of rest, and I’ve been out for perhaps two hours now. The colder air is doing wonders with my lungs. And no, not taxing at all: it’s absolutely delightful to be out of that room... and, I never thought I would say this, out of bedclothes and loose hair, too,” she added with a chuckle, smoothing the shawl over her knees.

He smiled at this. “In that case, that makes two of us who greatly appreciate the effort and result.”

She saw from his expression that he truly meant it, despite his teasing delivery. She laughed it off, averting her eyes to keep the blush from creeping to her cheeks, and gestured for him to sit down.

“Did you accomplish all you set out to do?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Almost.” He sat at the other end of the bench with a sigh, the weariness of a long day catching up with him. “A few items remain to be sorted, I am still waiting for an answer to know how to address them, but it should be straightforward enough once I get it.”

“Oh, and when do you expect this answer?” she continued. “Shortly, I hope?”

“Yes, quite,” he hesitated, then blurted out, “Even… presently, I’d say.”

Mary frowned. “Presently? Is a message to be delivered here? Or are you expecting someone to call? I can ask Agnes-“

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” he cut her off with a wave of his hand, and buried his face underneath afterwards. “I’m going about this all wrong.”

Mary stared at him quizzically, then sighed. “Jed, it’s all right. You don’t have to make excuses for having to leave. We both knew it was coming.” As he stared dejectedly at the ground, she reached over and touched his arm, making him look up in surprise. “And thanks to you,” she added earnestly, trying to convey the depth of her gratitude, “I’m out of harm’s way now. Given another week or two, I know I’ll be perfectly fine. You can go back without worrying about me. ”

“Of course I’ll worry. How can I not, after you being so ill?” He shook his head. “But I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m trying to make plans. To find options.”

“Options? What options can there be? Don’t you have to report back in a few days?”

“Yes, well, with McBurney gone, this shuffles the cards somewhat. I went to the local Union army headquarters, to enquire as to who my new commanding officer would be. They said the post had not yet been filled, that they were still evaluating candidates.” At her questioning face, he shrugged. “So I applied myself.”

“You _what_?!?” It was Mary’s turn to be taken aback. “But you don’t enjoy the bureaucracy of being Executive Officer, why would you request to take on even more?”

He shrugged and chuckled. “To be honest, I didn’t think it that far through. All I saw was an opportunity not to report back now, to extend my time here with you while waiting for my application to be evaluated. I can always make a terrible impression later on.” The sheepish smile that formed on his lips, the hesitant search of approval in his dark eyes, made him look like the boy he must have been, and combined with his revealed wish to stay with her, made her sigh and smile adoringly at him.

“Oh, Jed, you impulsive, thoughtless, sweet, wonderful man,” she scolded tenderly. “All that for a few days more?”

Emboldened, he turned to face her, his lower leg coming to rest against hers, his fingertips softly grazing her covered knee. “If these few days more are all you need to be well enough to travel back with me to Alexandria, then yes, gladly, and I’ll keep on applying for any and all posts that open for as many more days as you need. I am not going anywhere without you.”

Her breath caught in her throat while he continued. “There’s something I need to show you,” he said, reaching into the folder next to him, and taking out a letter, he hesitated for a moment before throwing what little caution remained to the wind, and placed the document delicately on her lap.

Mary, under the growing elation of his declaration, took some time to turn her gaze down to the paper, and still some more to comprehend what she read. _DIVORCE DECREE._ His name. A certain Elizabeth Foster née Cameron. Signatures. October dates. A seal.

“You’re divorced?” she asked meekly, trying to make sense of it all.

He nodded and reached out to take her hand. “I’m free, Mary. Although, at the risk of sounding like a complete cad, I have no wish to remain so.”

She tore her sight from the document to meet his eyes, and found them burning with an ardent desire. “Because I love you, Mary Phinney. With every inch of my heart and being, I love you. I know this is fast, but I beg you, if you only feel one tenth of the admiration, respect, and passion I feel for you…” With that, he slid to the ground on one knee, “Marry me, Mary. Marry me now, so we may return to Mansion House as man and wife. I found a pastor who will do it, whenever you say the word. ”

Mary stared at him, the surrounding sounds buried by the chaos inside her heart and mind, every single cell in her body screaming YES!, but she heard herself say: “No.”

Jed froze. “No…?”

“No, I mean... not now, Jed. It’s too soon. Think of the scandal of us marrying now, the ink barely dry on this paper, the divorce announcement probably not even published..?”

“I saw to that today,” he mumbled. “I didn’t take you for someone who minded scandal much, considering our sleeping arrangements this past week.”

The comment was like a slap to the face. Noticing her expression, Jed immediately regretted his words. “God, Mary, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. That was unfair. You could have died, and –“

“And yes, I could not have cared less what people might have thought of it then,” she interrupted him. “But thankfully, Aunt Agnes has been guarding the house like a rabid watchdog and no word got out. But a marriage… it will be public, everyone will know! “

“I don’t care.”

“You should. Your reputation, as well as your skill, is what got you the Executive Officer post, is what even got the President to visit the hospital: throw that away with a hasty marriage and you might not be in high enough standing to maintain it.” Jed rose up then, annoyed at the turn of events , but she tightened her grip on his hand and made him sit back down next to her on the bench. “Jed, our good names speak louder than our actions if we want to attract the support of respectable, wealthy families who could contribute much needed resources to our work. We can’t just toss it aside for selfish pleasure.”

“Then I’ll resign my commission. I’ll go back to being a simple surgeon. No one thinks much of surgeons.”

“You don’t mean that, truly. The work you do at Mansion House is critically important. If you remain the Executive Officer, you can make sure the hospital is run according to your principles. You can keep Dr. Hale and Nurse Hastings in check: despite their faults, they are both very skilled at their jobs, and we must find a way to rally them to our mission. Jed, what we’ve built there, it’s good, but with hard work, and everyone’s help, including Samuel and Charlotte, we could make it great, for both soldiers and former slaves. ”

Jed tried to pull away once more, but she held on tightly, and reached over and touched his cheek with her other hand, forcing him to look at her and the earnest promises her eyes held.

“Jed, darling, just give us time. I **will** marry you, the minute this war is over. Everyone says it can't last much more than a few months. We will grab Chaplain Hopkins by his dog collar and have him wed us right in the ward, if we must. But as for now... I’m so sorry, and please believe that it breaks my heart to say so, but we must remain as we are.”

He sighed, and reached up to take her hand. “I don’t think I could bear it. To spend all day with you and not touch you." He turned his face into her palm and pressed his lips to it. "To have to steal kisses when no one is watching." He then pulled her hand up and kissed the inside of her wrist, and her forearm, and the highest part of skin reachable before her dress blocked him, and Mary was half glad for it, because the tingles sent down her skin were making it harder to maintain her resolve. "To restrain myself from stealing into your room at night," he added with his eyes darker than ever, and the tingles erupted all over her body. "We risk causing a much greater scandal if we are found out, and don’t we stand to lose more then, than if we had been open and properly married from the start?”

“Yes," she agreed, briefly allowing herself to run her fingertips through his hair, her gaze intent upon his lips, then reset her mind. "But then I will lose my position as Head Nurse. Miss Dix strongly disapproves her nurses marrying patients or doctors, and I will be dismissed. I might be able to retain a junior position, but I would then report to the new Head Nurse, and have little to no influence on the way things are done, especially if that new nurse cannot hold her own against Miss Hastings. Or, even worse, if Miss Hastings herself gets appointed.”

“And is that, your position and influence, more important to you than being my wife?”

“No!” she quickly cried out, seeing the hurt in his eyes. “Not to me, but to our work, for the time being, and with what is at stake… I would definitely feel more useful by your side at the hospital than tending your household. There’ll be plenty of time for that once the war is over, and we’ll have deserved our mundane, boring little domesticity then.”

"Domesticity with you could never be mundane nor boring,” he tried once more, and sighed, dropping their joined hands to his lap. “Mary, I'm not a young man anymore, I don't want for us to hide and wait and waste what little happiness we could have together. Your illness made me realize this, I thought surely it had done the same for you."

"It has, I assure you... but it also has not erased my earlier desire to be of use in the war, and to help end slavery anyway I can."

Jed considered this for a moment, and his face lit up in a revelation. “Then… perhaps we don't need to go back to Mansion House with Miss Dix and her ridiculous precepts. There is other important, scandal-free work we could do as a married couple in this damn war. I could request a transfer to Boston.”

Mary shook her head. “Boston will gossip even more than Alexandria. It’s only because we have allegedly never been out of Aunt Agnes’ sight that it hasn’t begun already.”

“Well, Boston and Alexandria aren’t the only two cities in this vast country!” he exclaimed. “We could go to New York, or Philadelphia, or Chicago even: start over somewhere no one knows us and far from scandal, and build something new.”

She was puzzled. “Those places are quite removed from the war, what good could we do there?”

“Mary Phinney, hopefully very-soon-to-be Foster," he added to her amusement, "you of all people know that healing soldiers is not the only worthy cause.” At her curious expression, he continued, sombering up: “Speaking with Aurelia here, and Sam and Charlotte before leaving, it’s made me realize how right you were: I only see what I wanted to see, and I did not want to see slavery for the abomination it really is. I think it started dawning on me back in Alexandria, with the smallpox epidemic and the dreadful conditions in the contraband camp you mentioned, but I only fully comprehended it on my way here. I don’t think I’ve told you, but I stopped by my family’s plantation with Samuel, and the things I saw, and heard, and the awfulness that was tolerated… no, not tolerated; embraced, accepted, celebrated even! It just made me sick. To think that I had been complicit somehow, and for so long… I was absolutely horrified.”

He looked up at her and she just stared back, listening acutely, her brow knitted. He sighed. “Mary, my brother fathered a child upon a young slave, Julia, and as she lay in distress over the difficult birth, neither him nor my mother lifted a finger to do anything for her. Worse, their reaction was to want to **_sell_** the child off! Their own blood and kin… they refused to see it, calling it “their property” instead… I don’t think I have ever been so appalled in my whole life.”

Transfixed, Mary waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she asked softly, “So what happened?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I bought her and her daughter, with Samuel’s help, to set them free. He was taking them to Alexandria when I left them.”

She stared at him in amazement. “So you have a newborn niece and a woman deeply wronged by your brother in Alexandria, and yet you want to leave?”

“Niece!” he exclaimed, then nodded. “Well, yes, she is, but… I don’t **_know_** them. Of course, I would do right by them and see they are well taken care of, but I trust Charlotte and Samuel would be of more help to see them set in their new free lives.”

At this, Mary only stared at him dubiously, and he recognized the nonsense of his suggestion. Thinking it over, a second epiphany hit him. “Well, we’ll take them with us up North! Mary, don’t you see? There are other ways for us to serve our county through this bloody war than patching up the wounded boys it sends to be butchered in a field. I think I finally see that the true Cause is the one you serve: the Emancipation of the enslaved people. And not just their freedom, but their care and wellbeing. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. All men created equal. Was that not written in the Declaration of Independence almost 100 years ago? What have we not understood yet?”

At her stunned expression, he pressed on. “Perhaps the best way for us to serve in this war is to help those who have escaped the South make their way to safe Northern states and help them make a new beginning. Tend their medical needs. Train those who want to learn. What do you think?” he asked, looking up, when he saw her eyes welled up in tears, an astonished smile on her face.

She searched for words, gazing at him as though she had never seen him before, and finally softly said: “I think… that I have never loved you more than at this very instant, Jedediah Foster.”

Beaming with bliss, he grabbed both her hands and held them tightly. “Then say you’ll marry me over these few days more we've been granted. I’ll sort everything out with the army to make a clean exit, and when you’ll have recovered enough, we will start our new life together some place else, with Julia and her daughter, and help all the other people Charlotte and Sam will send our way. Please Mary... what do you say?”

She gazed deep into his eyes, blinking her own to prevent the joyful tears from falling. “It sounds life an absolutely perfect life for us… once the war is over.”

“God you are stubborn!” he exclaimed, throwing his head back, and resting it on the bench. A sound halfway between a chuckle and a sigh escaped his lungs. “I will never convince you of letting Mansion House go, will I?”

She smirked at him. “I sincerely doubt it, dearest, but perhaps you’d stand somewhat of a chance if you’d stop talking and kissed me already.”

He turned his head to face her, smiling expectedly in the setting sun, her eyes still moist from the emotion of all his recent revelations. Reaching up to wipe a tear away, he then cupped her cheek, in the way that had now become second nature to them. “To our new life together, then, whatever it may be,” he said simply, staring deep into her eyes.

Lovingly, she returned his gaze. “Together, and meaningful, and unbelievably happy.”

Their lips met, and they had no doubt that it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, this is it! It was never meant to be this long! In hind sight, introspective pieces aren't that bad, they don't run on as long as dialogues :) On the flip side, I think it ended up providing a decent "out" for Phoster should Mercy Street be magically renewed and MEW and JR were not able to return.
> 
> I did take creative license with the speed of Mary's recovery to fit the hypothetical yet probable 14-day furlough. Blame it on cutting out the evil calomel and Jed's therapeutic lovin'. 
> 
> Eliza's maiden name, Cameron, was taken from one street delimiting the block in Alexandria were Mansion House Hospital once stood, the other being Fairfax and already used in the MS universe :) (Yes, I try to learn stuff while on vacation! You should all try to go and visit Alexandria if you can, it's truly a beautiful place.)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, they were really encouraging and they definitely made my days! <3  
> I will have another (hopefully shorter) story up soon, I'm trying to keep the run-on dialogues down, but these things have a mind of their own!


End file.
